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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929589">Not In That Way</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardFawn/pseuds/awkwardFawn'>awkwardFawn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Break Up, Breakup Fic, Hurt No Comfort, Lyricstuck, M/M, Sadstuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:53:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>996</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929589</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardFawn/pseuds/awkwardFawn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick little DirkJohn breakup fic for my soul.<br/>Set to the song "Not In That Way" by Sam Smith.<br/>If this song makes you cry then this is a good fic for you probably.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Egbert/Dirk Strider</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Not In That Way</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Lyrics are from "Not In That Way" by Sam Smith. I claim no ownership to the song whatsoever. <br/>My only claim here is That Shit Hurted (insert pensive emoji).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <strong>And I hate to say I love you</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Your name is Dirk Strider and you can’t fucking breathe.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>When it’s so hard for me</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>You’re standing in front of your boyfriend of six months, trying not to start bawling. You want to keep it together. You need to keep it together. You need him to not do this. Wish he’d just turn around, go home, and think about things more. Give you another chance. Something. Anything.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>And I hate to say I want you</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>John is staring at his hands and you wish he’d just fucking <em>look at you</em>. He started off by saying that although he’s sorry you’ve clearly had a bad day, he isn’t about to make it any better. You feel your heart crack in your chest. You know exactly what’s coming and you really had yourself fooled into thinking that things were going so well.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>When you make it so clear you don’t want me</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>His next words only confirm your fears. He’s breaking up with you. John tells you that he thinks you’re just in two different spots in your lives. That he can’t offer you what you want and that what he wants is both simpler and more complicated than what you can give him.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>I’d never ask you cause deep down I’m certain I know what you’d say</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>You’re just staring at him. You can’t move. Can’t think. You aren’t fully sure you have a good grasp on his reasoning. You’re hurting. He told you he loved you just yesterday. Surely there’s some kind of mistake here. You lash out just a bit and ask him if he ever loved you at all. It comes out much more accusatory and angry than you’d ever want to sound while speaking to him.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>You’d say I’m sorry believe me, I love you-</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>John backpedals faster than the speed of light. He tells you that he does love you. He assures you that you as a person aren’t flawed and that you have a lot going for you and he enjoys having you in his life. You can’t bear to hear it. It doesn’t add up to you and you’re in <em>so much pain</em>.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>but not in that way</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>“I just don’t think this is romantic.” His words hit you like a freight train going 200MPH. You know you’re going to remember them for a long time. Maybe the rest of your life. They echo in your head and you want to throw up. You’d been giving your all to this and it just <em>isn’t romantic?</em></p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>And I hate to say I need you</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>You skip several stages of the healing process and straight to bargaining. You ask him if there’s anything the two of you can work on.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>I’m so reliant</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Anything that you could change or make better.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>I’m so dependent</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Any way that he could give you a second chance.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>I’m such a fool</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>He tells you that he wouldn’t have asked you to come talk to him if he wasn’t sure about his decision. You’re forced to accept that things are really over and turn to walk away.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>When you’re not there I find myself singing the blues</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>It’s a terrible idea but you message him again the next morning.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Can’t bear</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>You ask him if he thinks things could ever <em>be</em> romantic. If you even have a shot in hell at winning him back somehow.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>Can’t face the truth</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>He tells you that he doesn’t want to instill you with false hope if he can’t be sure. John is too fucking kind. He says it would be fair to the both of you if you just treated this as the end of your romantic interactions.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>You will never know that feeling</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>You go absolutely hysteric. Over analyzing every little detail from start to finish about the relationship and the break up. You try to find the cracks, the flaws, any sliver of an issue. Everything comes up clean. He never indicated anything was wrong.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>You will never see through these eyes</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>It’s a fucking terrible idea but you start asking him a million questions. If you were good enough for him. If he felt like maybe he wasn’t being good enough to you. If maybe there was someone else in the picture. You really just want there to be a concrete reason. General “incompatibility” doesn’t feel like a good enough reason to throw away all that you had.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>I’d never ask you cause deep down I’m certain I know what you’d say</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>John denies it all at every turn. He tells you that you haven’t done anything wrong. That he doesn’t feel inadequate. That there’s absolutely no one else and how he wouldn’t ever dream of doing that to you. He says a lot of things that don’t make any sense to you and you really wish this wasn’t happening.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>You’d say I’m sorry, believe me, I love you-</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>He ends his lengthy statement by telling you that he just simply can’t do romance right now. That there is no room for it in his brain. It hurts, but it’s easier to accept.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>but not in that way</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>In a last ditch effort, you offer to slow things down. You tell him that you’re more than fine with being less full-on. That you’re okay if he doesn’t have as much time for you and romantic things, as long as you’re still together.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>You’d say I’m sorry, believe me, I love you-</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>For the first time maybe ever, John gets a little curt with you. He tells you that this is over. That his explanation wasn’t an invitation to try and fix things.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>but not in that way</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>You apologize to him for the last time, leaving the excuse that you at least had to try. You couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t give your all until the very end.</p><p>And just like that, it’s really over.</p>
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